


Never knew Just how High I was Flying

by Skitz_phenom



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Aliens Made Them Do It, Drinking & Talking, Feelings Realization, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Jim, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-04-06 08:17:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skitz_phenom/pseuds/Skitz_phenom
Summary: This thing that keeps happening between him and Bones... well, it's just one of those things that happens now and then between friends, right? Jim is pretty sure it doesn't have to actuallymeananything or involve feelings or anything like that.





	Never knew Just how High I was Flying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hazel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel/gifts).



> hazel, I really really enjoyed writing this for you. It wasn't the fandom we matched on, and it's one I've never written (weirdly, as I've been a Trekkie for 35+ years) but your prompt was awesome and it inspired me immediately and I just had so much fun with this. I truly hope I've managed to capture the vibe you were looking for with these two.

The things that Jim Kirk valued – his command, his ship, his crew, his friends (the latter two being one-in-the-same, essentially) – were also the things that he took pride in and leaned on for solace and, if he were being honest with himself, genuinely, truly loved. Value, and even pride and solace, were much easier concepts for him to fall back on when the need arose. Love… was trickier. He’d always been cautious with the mere idea of it, and uncertain of the feeling, to say nothing of his hesitation with the word itself.

So, as he stared at the back of a retreating figure, frustration and aggravation and a touch of fear welling up in his chest, Jim didn’t realize he’d shouted something until after the figure had stopped.

Not just stopped. Come to such an abrupt halt that Jim spared a moment to wonder if there was a forcefield blocking the door.

He watched as the stiff line of Leonard McCoy’s back straightened even further, shoulders rolling back, before he slowly began to turn. The expression that fixed on him, before Bones even finished turning half-way ‘round was one of wide-eye incredulity.

Jim wondered, for a moment, what had inspired such disbelief.

He thought back, trying to recall what he’d just blurted out in his fit of pique a few seconds earlier.

“You what?” Bones finally spat out, his tone going hand-in-hand with the look on his face.

His own voice slightly fractured by a throaty sort of squeak, Jim managed to repeat himself. “I said, fine. Go then.” He flipped his hand, echoing the useless gesture he’d given to the back of Bones’ head as he’d stalked away. “Go off and screw whatever ambassador’s attaché or whoever the hell you want. What do I care?”

He stopped there. That had been the end of it, right?

But Bones was still staring expectantly. “And,” he prompted after a long silence stretched between them.

“And?” Jim echoed.

Mouth thinning, Bones took a step closer. He was still across the room, on the other side of Jim’s quarters, but Jim felt hemmed in, cornered, none-the-less.

Shit. What had he said?

The words popped in his head then, flashing through his brain like a red alert, and Jim felt himself go cold. Or hot. Some kind of sensation washed over him, pooling heat at the back of his neck and spreading ice to his fingertips.

 _Shit_. He’d really said it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_This thing between them had started, like things often did, as something casual and probably spur-of-the moment and perhaps a bit alcohol-induced; the very first time back in their Academy days when they were young and foolhardy._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim walked in an uncharacteristically hurried, stiff-legged fashion – far from his usual strolling saunter – and made his way down the corridors of the cadet block. He didn’t stop to chat or share a joke on the move, or even throw out a saucy wink to anyone. Greetings were met with a quick nod or short word or something that wasn’t quite a wave. He nearly collapsed against the wall when he finally reached his destination.

Using an elbow to activate the door chime, Jim called out, “It’s me, Bones. Let me in,” in response to the gruff, “Who is it?” that sounded through both the speaker and the door.

The door whooshed open and Jim stepped into Bones’ quarters, careful of his hands.

Seated at his desk across the room, back to Jim, Bones was tapping at a datapad. Even from his spot near the entrance Jim could see that there were whole-body scans displayed on the screen.

“Gimme a minute,” Bones grumbled, stretching an arm behind him a moment to flail in the general direction of his living area. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Jim debated between the two-person table and the utilitarian loveseat – they were both about as comfortable – and settled on the latter.

“Coursework, or pet project?” He asked a few minutes later, seeing that Bones had stopped typing and looked to be closing things down on his screens.

“Forensic anthropology,” Bones replied. Which meant it was both. “It’s actually a fascinating case involving a Tellurian and a bottle of… holy shit.” He’d spun his chair around and finally gotten a look at Jim. “What the hell did you do to your hands?” He surged up from his chair and hurried over.

Lifting them for inspection, Jim felt his cheeks go hot as he sheepishly admitted, “Uh, Saurian blister-pox.”

Bones winced and then nodded. He gingerly touched the thin, silky filaments that coated Jim’s hands like a matched pair of fuzzy, lavender-ish gloves. “Right. Right. Treatment is keeping the hands and feet,”– he blinked up at Jim, voice pitched to a question on the last word, and Jim shook his head in the negative –“well, the affected extremities wrapped in Bularian webbing.”

Jim tolerated the prodding for a few more minutes before he let his hands drop – carefully – back to his lap. “Yeah,” he sighed.

Shaking his head, Bones made a tsking noise. “Can you still use ‘em? Or does the pressure bother you too much?”

“If I’m careful, it’s not too bad. I can still manage most things. Just have to avoid anything that might rub too hard or…” he trailed off, knowing exactly what Bones’ raised eyebrow meant. “Oh, don’t even get me started. You have to know the side effects of prolonged contact with Balurian silkworm fibers.”

Looking like he might’ve been biting at his cheek to keep from grinning, Bones gave an overly casual shrug. “I might’ve heard about it.” He crossed over to the kitchen alcove. “But, maybe some Saurian brandy will take your mind off those Saurian pox?”

Jim hesitated. “Uh, shouldn’t I worry about side-effects? I mean, they’re constantly tingling. I wouldn’t want it to get any worse.”

“Trust me. It’ll only help.” Bones turned, two generously filled tumblers in his hands, “Luckily, I’m a doctor, and I know just what prescription is called for here.”

It was easy to take Bones’ word for it, and Jim accepted the glass with a nod of thanks and a two-fingered grip. The fibers pressed against his fingertips and that odd, electrical tingle intensified. It didn’t hurt, _exactly_ , but it wasn’t a comfortable sensation. He took a hurried sip and then followed it immediately with a longer pull, before setting the glass aside. The potent liquor burned going down but left a pleasant warmth in its’ wake.

Bones joined him on the small sofa, slouching low and kicking his feet out to cross them on a small footrest that extended as he reclined. “So, wanna tell me how you ended up with the blister pox?” He sipped at his own brandy with lazy relish.

“I’m gonna need to down this entire glass before I humiliate myself in front of you to that degree,” Jim admitted.

“By all means,” Bones gestured magnanimously. “The bottle’s still half full. Help yourself.”

It only took a few swallows from the refill, before Jim found himself spilling the details. Bones’ laughter was justified, although the brandy probably made it seem funnier than it actually was, and by the time he got to the end, he couldn’t hold back his own self-deprecating chuckle.

“I mean,” Jim concluded with a flailing, helpless spread of his hands, “how was I to know her grandfather was Saurian? I didn’t even know those species were biologically compatible.”

“Well, a toast then,” Bones offered, raising his glass (and ignoring that it was down to half a mouthful). “To successful cross-species breeding, and the risks of casual hook-ups.”

Jim rolled his eyes at the wording, but clanked his tumbler against Bones’ nonetheless.

“Hey,” Bones offered, and his words were starting to sound thicker than usual. “At least you were a considerate lover. I mean,” he did something with his hands that could’ve been interpreted as crude, or might've been signalling for a hover-taxi. “You know. Just be happy you can’t get blister pox on your face!”

“Bones,” Jim whined. “I don’t need reminding.” He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the persistent warmth and ache in his groin. He’d been walking around at half-mast all day and although the alcohol did seem to numb the feeling in his hands, it was having the opposite effect elsewhere.

From the smirk pushing into Bones’ cheek, he knew exactly what Jim was dealing with. “Hey,” he protested. “It’s a known side effect of exposure to the –”

“The fibers, right,” Bones broke in. “And I imagine you can’t…” This time his gesture was equally crude, but easily interpreted.

“Nope.” Jim shook his head. He sighed, shifting again and pulled a pillow over his lap. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Apologies not necessary. Side effect, like you said.” His words were generous, but the merry glint in his eye belied the kindness. “So, why haven’t you found yourself another eager cadet to take care,”– he hooked his fingers in the air in exaggerated quotes –“of that little problem for you?”

“Blister pox are contagious through most bodily fluids.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t considered the possibility of looking for a helping hand.

Bones mouth twisted sideways in a fashion that appeared… considering. He held up his empty tumbler and seemed to stare idlily at the last drop of brandy that rolled around the edge, clinging precariously, as he nearly upended it.

Something about that expression made Jim nervous.

“You know,” Bones finally said, slowly, like he was testing out the words. “The thing about Saurian pox, is that once you’ve been exposed, you’re inoculated, and you can’t get ‘em again.”

“Well that’s good to know for the future, Bones. But how does that help me now?”

The glass was set down on an end table and then Bones let his head roll against the curve of the couch cushion until he was staring Jim in the eye.

“I ever tell you about the time I got the pox from some drunk who spit in my face when I was tryin’ to stitch him up after a bar brawl?” His booze-strengthened drawl gave the words a slow-motion effect.

It took far too long for the implication of that to sink in. “Uh, no,” Jim said, weighing every letter of his response carefully. “No, you’ve never told me that story.” The brandy had already pinked his cheeks, and the unspoken but implied offer made the nascent problem further south a definite equal factor in his decision-making process.

“Well, consider the story told,” Bones said with a wink. “And consider the offer on the table.”

Jim hesitated. “Uh, are you sure you’re –”

“I know what I’m doin’, Jim.”

“It’s just… the brandy.” He gestured to the empty tumblers.

Bones did look offended then. “You think I can’t hold my liquor, Jimmy boy?” His sly smirk belied the narrowed brows. “Take more than two fingers of brandy to put me under. I’m offerin’ as yer friend, Jim. And because I’ve been there. And I wasn’t lucky enough to have a handsome, charming doctor friend to give me a helpin’ hand.”

Somehow, Bones’ wink and devil-may-care grin made everything feel… easy. Right.

“Yeah,” Jim blurted on a noisy breath. “Yeah, Bones. I’d really, really be grateful for a hand right now.”

“Well, c’mere then.”

The fact that Bones got bossy after that didn’t hurt matters either. He hauled Jim across the narrow space that separated them and got him turned so that his back was to Bones’ chest and he was seated between Bones’ spread legs. “Kick your feet up,” he instructed, so Jim did, and another footrest extended from the loveseat.

Essentially cradled in Bones’ embrace, Jim let himself sink back into it with a pleasurable sigh. It felt good to let go, and to let someone else take over.

“You mind?” Bones asked after managing to get Jim’s uniform shirt off in slick maneuver that barely disturbed the webbing encasing Jim’s hands.

“Mind?” Jim asked, confused, but the question was answered when he felt Bones’ lips against his neck, mouthing at the thin skin behind his ear. He hadn’t expected kissing or anything of that nature, just a quick and dirty handjob maybe. He definitely didn’t mind. Bones’ teeth began worrying at his earlobe, and Jim moaned and craned his head to the side to give him better access.

The low chuckle Bones let out at that tickled and Jim squirmed just a bit more. The move shifted him further back against the supporting body behind him, and Jim realized that he could feel something hard pressed against his lower back. He shifted again, and grinned when it made Bones curse.

“Yeah, you just keep those hands o’ yours out of the way, you got that?”

Jim nodded, eager and aching.

Fortunately, despite the way he teased at Jim’s neck, Bones was quick to get down to business elsewhere. He dragged blunt fingers over Jim’s chest, tweaking a nipple – and eliciting a gasp – but kept those dull nails trailing down Jim’s quivering belly. His skilled hands made quick work of the placket of Jim’s trousers and he didn’t hesitate to shove them and his boxers both down Jim’s hips just far enough to let his cock spring free.

“Lookit’ you, Jim. So hard you must be achin’.”

Jim could only whine his agreement when Bones’ fingers traced lightly over the flushed and plummy head.

“Not gonna make you wait,” Bones told him, voice wicked and the drawl somehow ratcheting things further. 

“Please,” Jim whined.

He felt something cool and liquid trail down his cock, and he craned his head to see that Bones had somehow managed to produce a bottle of personal lubricant.

“How the hell?”

“End table,” Bones admitted with a laugh. “Never know when the mood’ll strike, yanno?”

A laugh punched out of Jim and immediately became a reedy groan when Bones used his fist to spread the silky, slick fluid over the length of his cock.

Jim would’ve liked to hold out longer, to live up to the reputation he liked to think he’d acquired at the Academy, but Bones surgeon’s hands worked him like a master, jacking him hard and fast just like he liked, and it took all of his concentration not to clutch at Bones’ thighs when he finally came.

“Jesus, Bones,” he choked out as hot spurts dappled over his belly and even his chest. Bones worked him through the pulses, gentling his grip with each one.  

“Yeah. Yeah, I got ya, kid.”

Jim elbowed him for that, but he also turned to crane his neck so that he could clumsily catch Bones’ mouth in a sloppy kiss.

He could feel Bones’ smile, and the breath of his laughter, but he kissed Jim back just as wet and messy.

When Jim was finally spent and couldn’t keep his head twisted-round like that, he drew back from the lazy kissing, loosed a long, pleasurable sigh and slouched back into Bones’ body.

Bones tolerated that for a few minutes, muttering underneath his breath in clear amusement, before he got his hands on Jim’s hips and shoved him over. “Okay, you sit there and bask. I got my own business to take care of.”

Jim did as he was told, and he watched in blissed out curiosity as Bones rucked up his own shirt and then shimmied down his trousers and got his cock free. It was gloriously reddened, and the foreskin had peeled back from the head, revealing the purpled tip. Bones shifted to reach for the bottle of lube.

“Wait,” Jim found himself saying.

Bones paused and turned to look at him. “Uh, kinda busy here, Jim.”

“No, I know,” Jim agreed. “It’s just… l want to…” He wanted to reach out and return the favor was what he wanted, but that wasn’t possible.

“You want to what?”

With his pants still lowered around his thighs and spunk cooling on his chest, Jim found himself shifting off the loveseat until he was on his knees. He looked up to check Bones’ expression.

Though his brows were up, and he maybe looked a little bit taken aback, he also looked eager. Jim flashed his best salacious grin. “Let me return the favor.”

He hadn’t quite thought through sucking cock without having the use of his hands, but as he lowered his mouth around the silky skin, Bones was there with a hand, holding himself straight and fisting the base so Jim didn’t gag himself.

This wasn’t something Jim did often, but it felt good this time. Especially when Bones’ free hand curved lightly over his head and his fingers threaded through Jim’s hair, barely pulling. And Bones talked through it all, nonsense and swearing and praise all in that honeyed southern that went straight to Jim’s balls.

It wasn’t long before he was tugging Jim’s head, pulling him away with a warned, “Jim, gonna…” He finished himself off with just a few quick strokes and Jim’s face was still close enough that droplets of come spattered his chin.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Bones said breathlessly, unraveling his fingers from Jim’s hair to swipe a thumb over his chin.

Jim just licked out at Bones’ thumb, narrowly missing it. “No worries, Bones. It was good for me too.”

“You need to go again?” Bones asked, and he didn’t sound like that prospect bothered him.

“Nah,” Jim shook his head. “One and done for me tonight. I think I just really needed to take that edge off.”

He levered himself up from the kneeling position, and let Bones help him get cleaned up and tucked back in and then redressed. When he was done, and they were both presentable and slouched side-by-side on the couch again, Jim yawned, wide and loud.

“Okay, Jim. Go get some sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

Would it be weird just to leave? Jim couldn’t help but wonder. “You sure?” he asked, feeling off-footed for the first time that evening.

Bones clapped him hard on the shoulder. “Yeah, you really should just rest with those hands.”

He _was_ tired. And now that he’d been reminded of them, his hands were aching again. “Okay. I’m goin’.”

When Jim reached the door, Bones following, he stepped through after the bulkheads slid open, but turned back.

“Thanks, Bones.” Jim told him, meaning it sincerely.

Bones gave him that cock-eyed grin. “Any time, Jim. What’re friends for.”

“Right,” Jim agreed, just before the doors slid closed between them. “Friends.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_The next time – well, of any significance that wasn’t just buddies giving each other a fumbling, drunken, helping hand as the need or occasion arose – it happened after their academy days, when Jim had already been given the Enterprise. It was on an away mission; and those kinds of situations were always a bit muddy and confused and surrounded by questions about consent and duty, and never really had anything to do with feelings…_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You want us to _what_?”

Jim didn’t wince, but inwardly he echoed Bones’ apoplectic squawk.

Belent-of-Istis, Highest Exalted and Mortal Reflection of the Triple Suns, canted his head like a confused cockerel. Considering the heavily feathered collar and jeweled torque he wore, he rather looked like one as well.

“Uh, what he means, your most Exalted, is that we’d be grateful if you could elaborate on your request,” Jim said carefully.

As the man was not only the political leader of the Istis people, but also their religious figurehead, Jim knew that offending him wouldn’t go over well. They were currently ‘guests’ of the Highest Exalted, surrounded by at least six dozen of his most loyal, zealous – and armed – followers, and cut off from the Enterprise due to an ion storm playing havoc with communications.

The away team was essentially at the mercy of the man’s capricious whims until the storm passed and they could get a message back to the ship to beam them the hell up. Jim was damn well going to do his best to keep his crew safe until that happened, even if it meant appeasing a megalomaniacal crackpot.

“A tribute must be offered,” Highest Exalted Belent explained, smiling beatifically. “Seed must be spilled in the holy chamber.”

“And by seed you mean,” Jim made a vaguely rude gesture and pretended to ignore Bones’ eyeroll and Uhura’s scoff.

Belent’s mouth pursed in a frown. “If you refer to the emanations of the body given for procreation, then yes, that is the meaning.”

Yeah, Jim had been pretty sure that’s what he’d meant. Although, it never hurt to ask (it would be a long time before anyone from Starfleet was asked back to Arveria Delta, though Jim blamed that little misunderstanding on a faulty translator). “And if we declined to participate in this offering?”

A low grumble of disapproval swept through the crowd.

Again, Belent’s expression remained serene, although it was belied by the menace in his reply, “Oh, well, that would be troublesome. I’m afraid it would not be looked up on with kindness.”

If there was one thing that Jim had picked up on since the landing party had beamed down, found that the energy readings they’d gotten from orbit were the result of a shield that protected the largest of Istis’ pre-warp, but space-travel capable cities from the frequent ion storms, and been escorted to meet the Highest Exalted, was that ‘kindness’ was an essential to the Istis’ culture.

Their envoys had first approached the away team with weapons levered, but smiling faces and an eerily echoed, “We greet you with kindness.”

“Killing us with kindness too, I’m sure,” Bones had grumbled while their escort went on at length about their hospitality.

Jim had elbowed him, trying to stay positive about the rather helpless position they were in, but now he was pretty damn sure Bones’ had been right.

Giving his best inoffensive smile, Jim spread his hands. “Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to be looked at unkindly, since you’ve been such kind and generous hosts.”

Bones’ near-silent snort told him he might’ve veered a bit too close to simpering. He continued, toning it down just a little. “Um, if you don’t mind my asking, does this uh, offering require more than one person?”

The Highest Exalted frowned again, but this time in puzzlement. “How else might one make such an offering?”

“Right,” Jim hurried to agree. “Of course. How else. So, just so we’re clear, are my crew and I allowed to determine who participates in making this offering?” If volunteers were allowed, Jim already knew he was willing to take one for the team. He dreaded the thought that this might push consensual boundaries with anyone on his crew.

Belent nodded, again wearing that benevolent smile. “Of course. You may choose the two amongst you whom you deem most worthy.”

One last clarification was needed. “And, that can be any two of us, correct?” Much as the idea of any kind of gender or species bias was an anathema to the core of Federation values, they’d certainly encountered bigoted species in their travels. (Most recently, there’d been a first-contact incident where Uhura had unthinkingly pressed a quick kiss to Spock’s hand and nearly incited a riot.)

“Of course,” Belent inclined his head. “So long as they are worthy. As you are their leader, I expect you would be able to determine the most devout amongst you?”

Jim bobbed his head eagerly. “Oh, yeah. I can absolutely do that. If I could have just a minute with my crew?”

Dismissing the away team to their conversation with the generous wave of a hand, Belent made the allowance. “Of course.”

There really wasn’t a good opportunity for privacy, seeing as they were still on the elevated dais barely larger than a transporter room, and just three steps down were surrounded on all sides by sycophants. Jim just chivvied his team as far from Belent’s throne as possible, and then invited them to circle up, and ducked his head close and spoke softly.

“Okay, as your Captain –” he began.

“Now wait just a damn minute,” Bones cut him off.

“I second that,” Uhura broke in before Jim could reply.

Jim sighed, scrubbed a hand over his face and looked to the remaining two members of their party: Ensign Stedrin, a young Botanist, and Lieutenant P’rrett, a Caitian security officer.

Stedrin wrinkled her nose. “I’m assuming this is voluntary? That is, I mean...” She looked between he and Bones and even as her cheeks flushed slightly, added, “I’m married, so I’d respectfully decline, sir.”

P’rrett’s whiskers flicked forward and back and he shrugged. “I’d be all for it, sir,” P’rrett stated with a trill of his R’s, “but, I don’t know that they’d accept my offering. Species compatibility notwithstanding.” Behind him, his tail thrashed in short, jerky motions.

Fighting back another sigh, Jim pressed his lips together tight for a moment. “Ensign Stedrin, thank you. You’re correct that this is completely voluntary. At least unless we can’t come to some agreement –” Bones made a noise like he was going to cut Jim off again, so Jim raised up a hand to preempt the interruption. “Lt. P’rrett, the offer is appreciated, but unfortunately, I think you’re correct.”

Being a furred, feline Caitain, P’rrett had gotten the most attention when they’d first made contact with the Istis, and one or two of their escorts had made strange, furtive gestures in his direction. Jim had been on enough primitive planets to recognize superstitious wardings when he saw them. He highly doubted they’d accept if P’rrett were among Jim’s ‘worthy’ selection.

With Stedrin bowing out and P’rrett disqualified on account of being a humanoid cat-person, that left himself, Bones and Uhura. Both of whom were glaring at him. He knew without asking that they’d both already thrown their hats into the ring, and he knew even without having to think about it that he was going to choose Bones.

Uhura might not be married to Spock, but they were in a relationship and he wasn’t going to be the guy to sleep with one of his best friends’ girlfriends, just because the opportunity threw itself at his feet.  

“Bones,” he finally said, giving a little jerk of his head. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with.”

“Captain,” Uhura began, but Jim silenced her with another curt swipe of his hand. He knew her protest wasn’t because she had any interest in actually conducting this ritual with him, but instead because she didn’t want to be treated as anything other than a member of the crew; one who would never shirk her duty.

And he respected that. But, even if she hadn’t been dating Spock, and even if she wasn’t a dear friend he respected, he and Bones were still the logical choice based on their personal history alone. It wasn’t going to be any kind of hardship for them.

“’Bout damn time you make a sensible decision,” Bones grumbled, but he gave Uhura a quick wink before stepping in behind Jim as they approached Belent’s throne.

“Highest Exalted, we have chosen.”

Belent gave another of those pleased nods. Apparently, they’d made a good choice. “Very well. If you will follow the Acolytes to the temple, they will provide you with the necessary instruction and accoutrements.”

As they turned to follow two identically garbed Acolytes, Jim caught Bones mouthing the word ‘accoutrements’ while his eyebrows waggled. He struggled not to snort in response.

The holy chamber itself was a central room in an elaborate stone temple and looked like nothing more than a pre-federation Orion brothel, adorned in cushions and draperies and flickering mood lighting.

Instruction and accoutrements turned out to be much more basic than Jim had… feared… hoped? One of the ‘devout’ – and it didn’t matter which – had to ‘spend their essence’ and ensure it spilled over a crude and very phallic statue that stood on a plinth in the center of the room. After that explanation the doors to two large, matching cabinets were flung open ceremoniously, revealing an impressive assortment of sex aids and toys and bottles, and a variety of things Jim couldn’t even begin to identify.

It was the solemnity of the Acolytes as they instructed, “You may avail yourselves, as you see fit,” that caused Jim to bite his lip on a sputter of laughter.

Bones was a bit less circumspect. He let out a low whistle and muttered, “Nearly puts that little shop on Deneb Four to shame.”

Jim had to agree.

Once the acolytes left them, concluding that they were to refresh themselves in the adjoining public room after they’d made their offering, and then would be escorted back to Belent, Jim turned to Bones. “Well, Bones. Preferences?”

“On which of us gets to dirty-up the kinky statue?”

Jim shrugged. “Well, that and how we want to do it.” He gestured to the cabinet. “Some uh… interesting stuff in there.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “You know that if that storm clears up, the Enterprise is gonna beam us out the minute they get the word from Uhura. We may not have the time to play ‘guess where this thing goes’. I’m suggesting quick and dirty.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Jim didn’t entirely want to waste the opportunity though. He tried for nonchalant as he offered, “You want to fuck me while I brace myself on the statue?”

A little vicious thrill of satisfaction shot through him when Bones sputtered at that.

“Uh, well.” He recovered quickly though. “I s’pose that would get the job done.”

Jim grinned, all cocky bravado. “Ya think?”

Bones rolled his eyes again.

A quick examination of the bottles in one of the cabinets provided a plethora of lubrication options, but Bones balked when Jim pulled out one, saying, “It smells like cookies!”

They settled on one with a faint, pleasant odor and a very nicely slippery feel.

Jim stripped down, eager and jittery in his own skin at the same time. He and Bones had never quite done this, though they’d done a lot of other things together.

“You just wanna go at it, huh?” Bones asked, tone wry, and apparently content to watch Jim get naked.

“Uh, you’re the one who reminded me that the Enterprise could get in contact at any moment,” Jim pointed out.

“Okay, I know what I said. But, I don’t think it’ll kill us if we actually enjoyed this.” There was something Jim couldn’t quite parse in his tone, but he was still grinning.

Fully naked and cock already thickening, Jim sauntered over to where Bones was lounging on a massive cushion. “I’m definitely planning on enjoying this, Bones.”

It looked like Bones wanted to roll his eyes a third time but managed to stop himself, just barely. “C’mere.” He grabbed Jim’s wrist and drew him down to the cushions. When he caught Jim’s mouth with his own, teasing his tongue past Jim’s lips and licking his way inside, Jim moaned, and his cock jumped.

Bones hadn’t ever kissed him quite like this. He didn’t know if anyone ever had. It was thorough and knowing and just the right amount of teasing as Bones’ teeth nipped and his stubble scraped Jim’s chin and his tongue swept past Jim’s in playful little jabs and thrusts.

Jim pulled away minutes… maybe hours later, feeling utterly, thoroughly debauched. “Jesus, Bones,” he panted. “I think you’ve been holding out on me.”

Looking quietly pleased with himself, Bones just pulled him back in and ravished his mouth again.

Squirming and so hard it hurt, Jim eventually drew back to put some space between them, rolling up to his knees so he could get his breath and equilibrium back.

“So,” Bones said, slow and lazy in that way that drove Jim nuts. “You feelin’ ready to make your mark?”

It might’ve been a bit pathetic just how fast Jim scrambled over to the statue. It wasn’t that tall, so he could easily stay on his knees next to it – despite his offer about bracing, he was a bit leery of actually touching the thing – and still manage to… aim.

He felt Bones settle in behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see that he’d not even gotten undressed. He raised an eyebrow, and Bones smirked and made a show of shoving his pants open just enough to get his cock free. Bones lifted his own eyebrow, clearly asking if Jim had a problem with the proceedings.

Jim wasn’t going to question the man’s vision. He turned his head forward and got his elbows underneath him on a fluffy cushion, pushing his ass up showily.

Bones swore.

Whatever odd battle was going on between them – who could get the other off the hardest, maybe? – Bones gave as good as he got. Jim barely had time to suck in a breath before he felt a thick finger push into him. The lube they chose worked damn good; there was hardly any resistance before Bones was knuckle deep.

He hissed out a breath but wouldn’t give Bones the satisfaction of asking him to wait or to stop while he got used to it. Instead, he canted his hips back, pushing into the pressure. He was pretty sure Bones swore again, albeit under his breath. Jim’s own heart was thumping too loud in his ears to know for sure.

A second finger breached him, driving in slow and steady. It ached and pinched and made Jim’s erection flag, but he just wantonly shoved back again and again.

“Fine,” he heard Bones mutter. “That’s the way you want it?”

And maybe he should’ve spoken up then, but sometimes he was stubborn to a fault. Bones’ fingers pulled out, and there was a slick, slapping sound and before Jim knew it, something other than fingers was teasing at his hole.

But it didn’t push in.

“Jim?”

The grin that split Jim’s lips was kind of ridiculous, but he couldn’t help how buoyed and buoyant he felt at that simple little act of affection. “Yeah, Bones,” he replied, suddenly ready to take everything Bones had to give. “Yeah, do it.”

Bones had some damn good self-control if the slow, incremental inward slide was any indication. Jim whimpered and spat and swore, and still he could feel Bones’ cock easing in and in and in.

“Jesus,” he bit out once Bones finally buried himself to the hilt, and Jim could feel the cloth of his trousers rubbing against the back of his thighs.

“Can say that again.”

He didn’t repeat himself, but he did laugh, although that quickly turned to a low ululation as Bones drew back, his cock sliding just as slowly out.

Jim let his head hang and he fought the urge to just collapse into the cushions. He felt stuck between some weird dichotomy of boneless and wired, but he needed to at least get a few drops of jizz on the statue, and that wasn’t happening if he let Bones fuck him into the floor.

Bracing for the next thrust proved prescient, because Bones was apparently done with slow. He rolled his hips forward, pushing deep and finding a stuttered, pistoning rhythm that sent sparks flickering behind Jim’s eyelids with every measure.

“Bones,” he croaked out.

“I got ya,” Bones exhaled between sucking gasps. He got his arms around Jim’s waist and rocked back, keeping himself buried deep inside, and hauled Jim’s torso upright and got a hand around Jim’s cock.

“Oh fuck, Bones… oh, fuck.” Jim flailed an arm back, hooking it around Bones’ neck and he barely held on while Bones worked him inside and out.

When he came it was with a throat-rending cry, and he slumped forward, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. All thoughts of coming on the statue were swept away in a tidal wave of pleasure so intense he nearly blacked out.

Or maybe he did go dark a few seconds, because the next thing Jim knew, he was splayed out on the cushions and Bones’ hands were braced on his shoulders and he was still fucking into him, fast and urgent. The stutter-spark of pleasure-pain that zinged through him had Jim writhing – to get closer or away he didn’t even know – and he could only urge Bones on with a hoarsely whispered, “Please, Bones. Please… come in me. I need it… I need you.”

Bones’ shout of release was short and sharp, and he went still a few long moments, his hips spasming and jerking and Jim could feel the pulses of his orgasm deep inside, until finally his hands slipped off Jim’s shoulders and he folded forward until his brow touched Jim’s nape.

“Holy hell, Jim.”

Bones’ hot breath panted against the back of his neck like a bellows.

It was a few minutes later, after they’d both got their breathing a little bit under control, although neither had done much to move, that Jim began tentatively, “Uh, Bones.”

“Yeah, Jim?”

“So, I kinda lost it there and I forgot about the whole statue thing. Think we can scoop a little bit of come off the floor or a cushion or…”

“Don’t you worry, Jim. I took care of it. Held ya up long enough to aim a few good money shots right on that ugly little fucker.”

Jim twisted on the cushion just enough that he could get a sideward look at the phallic stonework. Sure enough, there were a few drippy wet spots here and there on the greyish stone. They glistened oddly in the low light.

“Thanks, Bones.” If there was a ridiculous tenderness to his tone, he was sure Bones would pretend not to notice.

Later, when they’d cleaned up and Jim was making the last few tidying adjustments on his uniform, he looked over at Bones who was lounging near the doorway, sprawled on another of those massive cushions. “What’d’ya wanna bet that when we get back out there, Uhura will tell us that she got through to the Enterprise and they’re ready to beam us up?”

Bones just shook his head. “That, Jimmy my boy, is a bet I would not take.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_There’d been one other occasion where he and Bones had nearly ‘taken one for the team’, but some fast talking and clever negotiation by Uhura got them out of it. After that, ships business kept them both busy and at odds in scheduling for a time and it didn’t happen again until an away-mission gone sideways, that found them stranded in less than ideal conditions. Emotions were just far too tangled up in survival to be fully examined._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit, was that your communicator?”

Bones didn’t reply, but his low-voiced curse was answer enough.

It took an ominously long time for the clink and ping of the device hitting the bottom of the crevasse to echo upward.

Jim felt fingers tighten in the back of his jacket and he hugged closer against the stone of the cliff face, hoping Bones was doing the same. They’d nearly reached the end of the narrow ledge, only a few yards from where it widened into a passable trail, but he didn’t know how stable the rock under their feet was going to remain. He’d trusted the last few yards until a wide swath of stone gave way beneath Bones’ boots, and only his grip on Jim’s jacket and the flailing arm Jim had swung behind him had kept Bones from taking the same drop as his communicator.

“Remind me again whose bright idea it was to let the Enterprise go investigate that emergency signal?”

He’d have found Bones’ complaining a comfort, if it weren’t for just how high and airy his voice had gotten. His breathing was irregular, and Jim knew he must’ve been fighting down some hellish vertigo.

Sliding a foot forward, Jim slowly let the limb take his weight before following through with his body. Behind him, he felt Bones inch along just as tentatively.

“Only a few more feet, Bones,” he encouraged.

They shuffled another yard, then two until only a body-length remained before the path turned in and away from the sharp drop into the gorge.

“Almost there.”

He risked a relieved grin when his words were met with a low grumble.

Until he realized that it _wasn’t_ Bones’ doing the rumbling.

“Dammit! It’s giving –”

“Bones!”

Jim lunged forward, pushing his feet into the already crumbling earth to launch himself forward to more stable ground, at the same time that he swung an arm behind him and grappled recklessly at whatever part of Bones he could catch in a desperate death-grip.

Somehow, he managed to use his remaining momentum to haul a flailing Bones past him, half throwing and half shoving him onto the solid ground ahead, while he caught himself one-armed, on the edge of the broken ledge.

“Jim!”

Almost before he could register that his body was dangling off the side of a cliff, the unknown depth of an icy crevasse gaping below him, Bones was there, getting his hands fastened tight around Jim’s arm.

“I’ve got you, Jim,” Bones promised through gritted teeth. “C’mon, help me get you up, dammit!”

His boots scrabbled to find purchase against the raw earth and crumbling scree, but with Bones’ help, he managed to haul himself up on the ledge and over the lip to the escarpment.

Even after he was safe, Bones continued to urge him away from the edge and once they were far enough away from the drop-off, he slumped heavily to the ground. Jim rolled to his back, limbs sprawled akimbo, and panted hoarsely. He could hear Bones doing his own gasping and groaning beside him.

“You okay?” he finally asked, once he’d gotten his breath back.

“Just peachy,” Bones retorted.

Jim let out a croaking laugh and slapped a weak arm in Bones’ direction. “Hey, we survived. Right?”

“Hmph. So far. But, seein’ as we were supposed to be holed up in a nice, cozy bungalow sippin’ whiskey by the fire while those rock-crazy geologists were out here on the mountain collecting their samples…” he let the complaint trail off with significance.

“Hey,” Jim protested even as he struggled to sit up. “That avalanche was a fluke. If we’d been five minutes faster getting across that bridge –”

“We’d’ve ended up buried to our eyeballs in snow.”

“I’m not the one who stopped to piss behind a tree,” Jim accused, although there was little heat in it.

Bones gave another noisy, sputtering exhale. “If we’d beamed down to the research station instead of the survey point first, I wouldn’t have needed that extra coffee to keep me warm and wouldn’t have needed to take a piss.” He sniffed. “But no. You’ve gotta baby the geologists. Let ‘em go poking around weird, alien rock formations just to keep them amused.”

Jim laughed again, and leaned over Bones, who was still lying supine on the ground. “But they’re so cute when they’re all excited. C’mon, Bones. You thought they were funny, admit it.”

The sideward twist of his mouth gave him away, but Bones still grunted out, “I’ll do no such thing.”

It took a few minutes, and a bit of groaning, but Jim managed to help Bones to his feet and after a quick, “You okay? Nothing broken?” inventory, they continued further down the path.

He’d reviewed the topographical data with the geology team prior to the mission and he knew this small stand of peaks dropped swiftly down into a rolling glacial plain full of drumlins and eskers and moraines. While not heavily populated, there were nomadic tribes that traversed the plains and grazed large herds of a wooly, six-horned, distant cousin to Earth goats. One of the reports of a previous survey team noted that the glacial plains were dotted with structures much like ancient Celtic roundhouses.

He explained that to Bones, adding, “Buck up, Bones. Once we’re down off the mountain, the terrain will level out and maybe we’ll get lucky and find one of those roundhouses to squat in until the Enterprise gets back in range.”

When Bones’ response to that came in the form a wry chuckle, Jim turned to look back at him. He was holding a hand out, palm face-up and flat, and staring at it.

“Lucky, huh?”

Jim caught his meaning a moment later when something small and white floated in his periphery. The snowflake was fat and fluffy and it didn’t take long before he saw another, and then another.

“Just a few flurries,” he told Bones with confidence.

But he clapped Bones on the shoulder and got them moving, putting a bit more speed in his trudge down the mountainside.

An hour and twenty-seven minutes later, Bones was pressed tight against him, and the howling wind nearly stole his voice as he shouted, “A few flurries, huh?”

“It’s a little bit of snow,” Jim practically hollered back. “We’ve survived worse!”

Worse made itself known as the white-obscured sky began to darken with the onset of the planets’ night cycle.

“This is why I prefer to stay on the ship,” Bones grumbled some time later and shoved Jim further into the makeshift shelter of an old shed of some kind.

“C’mon, Bones,” Jim managed through chattering teeth. “You always complain… hate bein’ in space.” He tried to chuckle, but already his tongue felt thick and the words came out in a slur. “Y’can’t have it both ways.”

Bones just grunted and finally managed to wedge the door closed against the icy winds and blustering snow of a particularly nasty blizzard.

Jim had discovered on the way to the small building he’d spotted – “Look, Bones. Over there. Some kind of shack. We can take cover in there.” – that the structure stood on the opposite side of a sizeable stream; one that had barely crusted over with a thin layer of ice. Unfortunately, that realization came the hard way.

Soaked and shivering and lightheaded, Jim knew he was rapidly succumbing to hypothermia.

“Well, it ain’t the Ritz,” Bones commented after activating his tricorder’s emergency light and glancing around, “but it’ll keep us out of the wind.”

Jim tried to reply but was shushed immediately. “You, shut yer damn mouth. We need to get you warmed up, fast. Body temperature is already too damn low. C’mon, I’m gonna get you out of these wet clothes.”

Since his attempts to help just resulted in getting snapped at, and even smacked upside the head once, Jim just let himself be manhandled and stripped. He was too damn cold to really care. Although, he found Bones’ running commentary – ranging from irritation that ‘all their damn fancy equipment couldn’t predict a snow storm’ to cursing the geologists who’d insisted on examining those rock formations, to bemoaning that ‘this kind of shit never happens when Chapel is on the away team’ – oddly comforting.

Once he had Jim naked, Bones tugged off his own coat and tunic and laid them out on the bare dirt floor and then rolled Jim on top of them. Even that thin layer of body-warmed clothing between him and the cold earth did wonders to stop Jim feeling like he was going to pass out. He tucked his face into the faux-fur lined collar of the coat, breathing deep and exhaling heavily to feel the heat warm his cheeks.

“Don’t go hyperventilating on me now,” Bones cautioned.

The next thing Jim knew, there was a searing line of heat pressed all along his side.

He must’ve made a noise of inquiry because Bones responded. “Body heat, Jim. Fastest way to get you warmed up.”

“Mmm. Nice,” he managed.

Bones chuffed out a laugh, and got a thin, silvery emergency thermal blanket spread over the pair of them. He tucked it carefully around, ensuring no cold air could seep in, and then tugged and finagled until he had Jim nearly cocooned by his own body.

“You’ll be warm soon enough, Jim” he said, his breath a pleasant heat against Jim’s ear.

“Thanks, Bones,” Jim replied muzzily.

“C’mon. Stay awake.”

Jim hummed an agreement to the caution. And he didn’t quite fall asleep, but he did let himself close his eyes and bask in the sensations of warmth returning to his extremities, even if it did ache and burn and splinter through his fingers and toes like electric shocks. Every now and then Bones would shift and check his pulse, or squeeze his fingers or place a firm, confident palm over his calf or arm or the back of his neck.

He was slipping into that liminal space between a half-doze and barely-there awareness when Bones’ low huff of laughter roused him. “Wha’sit?” His tongue still felt clumsy, but it was just fatigue making the words come out dozy and slow.

Bones answered by way of gently pressing a knee into Jim’s groin. “Parts of you are certainly feelin’ better.”

It wasn’t until the hair of Bones’ thigh scratched against his hip and the touch of his bony knee slid against him, that Jim realized he was hard. Painfully so.

“Huh.” He twisted and rubbed his cock against Bones’ leg experimentally. It felt good. Really good.

“Jim,” Bones started cautiously. “You don’t wanna go expending too much energy…” He trailed off though and shifted next to Jim until he had replaced the awkward press of his leg with a firm hand.

The heat of his fingers curling around his cock made Jim groan. “Bones,” he tried to protest, confused about wanting what he wanted. “You don’t –”

“It’s all good, Jim,” Bones’ low drawl against his ear sent a shiver down Jim’s spine. “Need to get that heartrate up anyway, right?”

Jim didn’t have it in himself to argue further. “Yeah,” he agreed, shoving down the guilt that came with too-easy acceptance.

Bones gave a few light, perfunctory strokes and then drew his hand away long enough to generously lick his palm. When he rewrapped spit slick fingers around the burning heat of Jim’s cock, Jim’s whole body jerked like he’d touched a livewire.

“You okay?” Bones asked, amusement in his tone. He started to slowly stroke.

“Yeah,” Jim agreed breathily. “Feels good.”

It felt incredible, actually, but despite the pleasure zinging to his balls and up his spine, Jim was distracted.

“Wait,” he finally sputtered, catching onto Bones’ wrist to stop his steadily speeding strokes.

“Something’ the matter, Jim?”

He wasn’t sure how to articulate it. “It’s good, Bones. I mean, it’s really, really good, but…”

Bones waited patiently, his fingers just loosely ringing Jim’s still throbbing cock.

“Uh, maybe if you…” Words still weren’t cooperating, so Jim figured he’d have to get his point across another way. He rolled onto his back and pulled and tugged at Bones’ body until he was splayed over Jim like a living blanket. Their thermal blanket had come untucked in a few spots during the maneuvering, but the little blasts of cool air that snaked in helped to clear his head.

He knew what he wanted.

“Do it _with_ me,” he finally explained.

In the dim light beneath the blanket from Bones’ still illuminated tricorder, Jim saw Bones frown. “Uh, we’re not exactly equipped for that, Jim. I lost half of my emergency kit on that mountain.”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t mean fucking. Just… this.” He thrust his hips up, cock rubbing against the soft skin of Bones’ belly. He could feel that Bones was hard too.

“Ahhh,” Bones acknowledged with a grin. “A little good ol’ fashioned frotting. I think we can work with that.”

Enough sweat had accumulated between their bodies that when Bones rolled his hips down and Jim rutted up, they slid against each other slick and urgent. Jim grabbed for any parts of Bones he could get his hands on, clenching too-tight and maybe trying not to think about how close he’d come to losing him on the mountain. And Bones was definitely pushing nail marks and bruises into Jim’s skin. They grappled and thrust and groaned and Jim finished first, spilling against Bones’ inner thigh and his own stomach, and Bones aimed his own cock for that slick spot and rubbed himself off against Jim’s belly a few minutes later.

They collapsed, spent, beneath the thin blanket.

“Think it’s warm enough in here for now,” Bones commented a short time later.

Jim laughed, because he did feel warm all over. “Yeah, I think it is.”

A damp tunic got them both cleaned-up, and although their exertions had raised the temperature of the small space, they tucked themselves back underneath the blanket, and tucked each other close as well.

Despite Bones’ caution about falling asleep, they both jerked awake some time later to the chirping of Jim’s communicator.

“Enterprise is back in orbit,” Bones observed dryly. “Guess our little getaway is cancelled.”

“Guess so,” Jim agreed even as he searched for his trousers and belt, so he could respond to the summons. As he flipped the comm unit open and acknowledged the ship with a, “Enterprise, this is Captain Kirk,” he wondered at the odd little flash of disappointment that had crossed his mind right after being startled awake.

“Captain,” Spock’s voice echoed through the small space. “We’ve been in contact with Dr. Devins, at the Geological Outpost. I understand there was an incident?” His dry delivery couldn’t disguise the undercurrent of ‘why am I not surprised’ in his tone.

“A bit of one, yes, Spock. We’ll debrief once Doctor McCoy and I are back onboard.”

“Very good, Captain. I’ll have you beamed aboard –

“Belay that just a few minutes, Mr. Spock. Uh, could you please have someone retrieve some clothing from my quarters and have that beamed down to my location?”

On the other side of the little shack, Bones was muffling a snicker behind his hand.

Jim rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his own grin.

Spock, bless him, merely replied, “Acknowledged, Captain. We’ll wait for your further instructions for beam-up.”

“Thank you, Spock. Kirk out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_The last time it almost happened, only a few weeks before Jim’s disastrous vocalization, and emotions were involved, but they were running too high and too off kilter._

_They’d lost three crewmen on a Mining Station disaster and had only managed to beam out a third of the population before the shield integrity failed and the core meltdown triggered a catastrophic explosion. The station had been home to several dozen families._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bones,” Jim pounded the side of his fist on the door, ignoring the comm. He knew Bones was inside.

He also ignored the stares of passing crewman, probably wondering if their Captain had finally lost his shit, and kept knocking.

“Dammit, Jim,” Bones sputtered once the doors flew open, almost as if they were responding to Bones’ frustration. “It’s damn near three a.m. ship-time. What the hell do you want?”

Jim didn’t answer in words, but he did push Bones back into his quarters and, not even waiting for the door to slide shut, he pushed Bones up against the bulkhead and kissed him, fierce and messily, with no tenderness or finesse.

Bones tolerated it for a few minutes, even kissing back albeit slower, softer, and Jim knew he was trying to ease them into something less fraught. When that didn’t work, he bit at Jim’s lip hard enough to draw blood, and when Jim finally yanked his head back with a yelp, he saw Bones eyeing him with unwanted compassion.

“Knock it off,” he hissed out. “This isn’t anything.” He pushed at Bones’ shoulders again, pressing in with his whole body, holding him to the wall. “This is about fucking. That’s what we do, isn’t it?” It was cruel and even though he knew Bones tried to hide it, he couldn’t quite disguise the flinch Jim’s words invoked.

Jim shunted guilt away, burying it beneath the rage and helplessness, and he canted his hips forward, grinding his still slack cock against Bones’ thigh, trying to stir some kind of sensation.

“It ain’t going to work, Jim,” Bones told him, his tone as gentle as his hands.

“The hell it isn’t,” he argued, reaching between them to grab roughly between Bones’ legs, spitting a curse when he felt nothing but soft flesh in his hand. “What the hell, Bones. What the hell is wrong with you.” He pushed himself away then, bouncing Bones’ shoulders off the bulkhead. He turned and paced across the room, and then paced back.

“Say something, dammit.”

Bones shook his head, clucking sympathetically. It made Jim see red. “Come on, Doctor,” he spat mockingly. “Don’t you know what your patient needs?”

“Actually, I think I do. And neither of those are gonna help, Jim.”

“Neither of what?”

“Fighting. Or sex. They’re not gonna give you what you need.”

Jim threw his hands up and huffed noisily. “And I suppose _you_ know what I _need_.”

“Matter of fact, I do.”

When he replied, “Well what’s that then?” it was as much biting sarcasm as it was a genuine plea for an answer.

“You need a drink,” Bones stated matter-of-factly. And then he followed up that statement by crossing his room to the small liquor cabinet he had imported from a wood smith on Korentia Prime. He withdrew a fancy glass decanter and Jim was fairly sure he recognized that dark amber hue within.

“Take a seat,” Bones instructed, nodding towards his bed. Jim complied, sitting heavily on the firm mattress.

“Here,” Bones handed over a brimming snifter. “Doctor’s orders: down that fast.”

Jim did so, with no preamble. He emptied the bell-curve glass in two long swallows, and the unforgiving way the caramelly liquid burned going down, he knew he’d been mistaken about the contents of the decanter. “What the hell was that?” he managed to sputter, nearly coughing from the harshness of it.

“That, Jim my boy, is an antique Kentucky Bourbon, that’s probably older than you and I combined. It’s aged in charred oak barrels and doesn’t see the light of day for nearly a century.” He held up his own elegant glass, admiring the deep honey-colored liquid. “Half of the time, when they popped the seals on those barrels, they’d damn near pass out from the fumes. Other half, the char was too much, or it aged too long, and the barrels would fall apart, crumbling into the drink and spoiling it.”

Jim shook his head, smiling – albeit soft and small – for the first time that night. “So, you’re saying it’s strong and expensive and I should be savoring it instead of downing it like it’s cheap plonk?”

“Hell no, I ain’t sayin’ that. You need to get three or four more glasses down. The faster the better.” To demonstrate he poured a generous two fingers into Jim’s empty glass.

He took a bit more care with the second round, but by the time Bones was refilling for the third time, Jim could feel the warmth spreading through his abdomen and out to his toes.

Bones held out his glass, raising it. “To Lt. Briggs and Cadet’s U’tur’ush and Geria.”

Something tightened in Jim’s throat, but he lifted his glass, tapped it against Bones’ with a ‘clink’ and echoed the toast.

Jim made the next tribute. “To the all the Miners and their families on D’voreth Station.”

With a solemn nod, Bones repeated him. He took a generous swallow but had his glass up again a moment after. “To those we saved.”

“Those we saved,” Jim muttered, but it came out hoarse.  

“To the crew of the Enterprise, who did their damndest.”

Jim sighed. “To the crew.” He nodded at the rightness of it, no matter that it hurt deep in his chest.

To his surprise, Bones’ glass went up a fourth time. “To the Captain of the Enterprise, for making the hardest call.”

Though he twisted the snifter in his fingers, rotating the thin stem between his thumb and forefinger, Jim didn’t lift the glass.

“Jim,” Bones said softly.

Jim sighed again, heavy-hearted.

Bones took the decision away from him, reaching across their bodies to tap his glass against Jim’s. “To the Captain,” he said again, insistent.

Though he said it with a scoff, he still said it. “The Captain.” He swallowed down the few mouthfuls that remained, relishing the burn.

“Better?” Bones finally asked after Jim was looking down at the empty bottom of his snifter for the third time.

“Not really,” Jim admitted. “We should’ve done more. _I_ should’ve done more. We could’ve gotten them all out of there… if only I’d just…” he didn’t know how that ended and said instead, “I just feel so damn angry. So damn…” he grasped a fist in the air, like he could clutch the right word from the emptiness in front of him.

“How do you think Scotty feels?” Bones asked pointedly, just edging towards cruel. “If he’d been able to sustain those shields for even five more minutes, we could’ve tripled the number of evacuees.  Or, Uhura. If she’d been able to unscramble that transmission just a bit faster, maybe we’d have gotten to the mining facility in time to stop the meltdown. Or Sulu. He’s the one who ordered Briggs and U’tur’ush and Geria back over to the facility. If he’d held them back, they’d still be with us.” He clapped Jim on the shoulder and gave him a rough shake. “I know you’re the Captain, Jim. I know you take all of this on yourself, but you can’t own it all. You can’t let it all eat at you like this. You’re not alone in this you know.”

Jim swirled the whiskey and stared down into it, like he could find all the answers in its burnished depths.

“Staring at it ain’t gonna do you no good, Jim. Drink up.”

Again, Jim did as instructed by his physician. He drained the snifter once more.

It really was starting to catch up with him. His limbs started to get that heavy but loose feeling and his lips tingled while his nose went numb. “Jesus, Bones. How do I keep doing this?”

“You let your friends help. You come and drink with your best friend.” He sat down heavily on the bed –he’d been following his own prescription, matching Jim drink for drink – and was obviously just as wobbly. He jostled Jim with an elbow. It nearly sent him sprawling.

“You gotta stop tryin’ to do it all on your own.”

Jim let his empty glass fall from slack fingers onto the plain grey bedspread. It rolled in an arc, leaving a thin damp line in its wake. He frowned at the stain.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Jesus it’d been a long damn time since he’d gotten so drunk, so fast.

“It’ll wash,” Bones told him philosophically. He reached past Jim, grabbing up the glass. He set both of the empty snifters on a nightstand. “C’mon, Jim. Let’s get in bed.”

Jim frowned. “I thought you said… the sex was a no go?”

“We ain’t gonna have sex, Jim. Not tonight. We’re gonna sleep. And you’re gonna let me be a big ol’ Varathian tentacle beast and get tangled up in you and we’re gonna sweat like the devil's in the bed with us, and wake up feeling like absolute horse shit.”

It sounded horrible.

And exactly like what Jim needed.

Somehow, between the pair of them and their clumsy, drunken, fumbling, they managed to strip down to their boxers and get under the covers and Jim drooled on Bones pillow and Bones hadn’t been lying about clinging like a limpet.

When Jim woke not enough hours later, spikes of pain shot through his skull the moment he cracked his eyelids a fraction and let the artificial morning light creep in between eyelashes plastered into gummy spikes by sleep gunk. His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth and when he peeled it away the taste that came after was horrendous. The whole of his body ached, and the blankets and sheets were sweat-damp and reeked of alcohol filtered through over-worked pores. He was miserable and felt like death warmed over, and when he reached up to rub a line of drool from his chin he realized his fingers were tangled in Bones’.

Bones protested the movement, grumbling something incoherent – and probably profanity-laden – into the pillow. He tugged Jim’s arm back toward him, dragging it over the sheets until he’d tucked both of their hands underneath his body.

Caught, Jim could only roll back into Bones’ boozy, sweat-sticky body, and he did so, plastering himself all along Bones’ side in an awkward sprawl.

“Go t’sleep, Jim,” Bones muttered, nearly inaudible.

He knew a moment of surprise as he followed that suggestion, and suddenly all the weird aches and throbbing skull and cotton-batting tongue and scratchy eyes seemed like the best things in the world.

Jim drifted back to sleep, finding that the comfort and solace he’d so desperately needed were there for the taking.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_It all brought them back to this…_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Look, Bones…” Jim sputtered. He couldn’t bring himself to repeat them, the final words he’d shouted at Bones’ retreating back.

“No, you look, Jim.” Bones stepped closer and closer, until he could jab a finger into Jim’s shoulder. “You do _not_ get to do this. You do _not_ get to push me away, yet again, and then look at me like I’m the asshole for walking away.”

He wanted to argue that he hadn’t done that. That he hadn’t meant to let any of what he’d said slip out.

But Bones was relentless. “God, you’re a damn hypocrite. I’m the one who gets the ‘privilege’” –his finger quotes practically sliced the air with the sharp edge of their bitter sarcasm – “of knowing the intimate details of your sex life and gets to administer hypos or explain Denebian Herpes or listen to you piss and moan about your stupid trysts. And I’m the one who’s done nothing but bite my tongue since our goddamn Academy days, every time you hook up with this priestess or that ambassador or that Commander’s ex-wife.”

“Bones –”

“No, you just shut the hell up and listen. I finally get the chance to get to know a smart, attractive person who’s interested in _me_ , and not my pretty boy commanding officer for once, and what? You can’t take it? You can’t handle that she chose me over you? Is that it?”

Jim shook his head, but Bones wasn’t looking for an answer.

“It’s jealousy rearing its’ ugly damn head, isn’t it?”

There was a moment where Jim desperately wondered if he could pass it off as mere run-of-the-mill jealousy. That maybe it would buy him – not time, because he recognized that was long since out – but at least a reprieve from this conversation until he could regroup.

Unfortunately, Bones knew him far, _far_ too well, and he pressed on, not giving Jim the chance to get a word in edgewise.

“But that ain’t quite it, is it Jim?” There was such a knowing light in Bones’ eye that Jim couldn’t help the shudder that chased down skin. “Because what you said to me when I was walkin’ away? While that was sure as hell jealousy speakin’, you weren’t jealous of me, you were jealous of _her_.”

Shit.

Bones poked at his chest again, bitter but triumphant.

 _Shit_.

Jim’s shoulders fell, and he dropped his chin to his chest. “What do you want me to say?” he asked plaintively.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe admitting you’re jealous to start.”

Inhaling through his nose and blowing out the breath between pursed lips Jim repeated that calming breathing technique a few times. It did little to calm his nerves.

Bones didn’t help either, once again driving a pointy finger into the meat of Jim’s shoulder.

“Fine,” Jim’s breath and the word both exploded on an exhale. “Fine.” He lifted his chin, caught Bones’ alarmingly riant gaze. “You want me to admit that I’m jealous? Okay, I’m jealous.”

That wasn’t good enough, apparently. “Of?” Bones asked, a wry twist to his lips.

Jim grit his teeth – grinding them tight and almost hard enough to cause pain – a long moment before he spat out, “Her, god dammit. I’m jealous of her.”

He thought he’d feel relief once he’d made the admission, but when even those words didn’t ease that congested, tight feeling in his chest, Jim knew he was so, so screwed.

Bones, however, was starting to look mildly amused. “And why is that?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Jim bit out. “You are such an asshole.” It felt good to repeat it.

All that Bones did was agree. “Damn straight I am.”

“Augh!” Jim groaned and reached up to fist one hand in his hair. “This is ridiculous. Bones you already know _why_. You know it’s because I don’t want to think about you fucking somebody else. Okay? Yeah, I’m a selfish hypocrite. You think I don’t know that?”

Bones had him caged in, his back against the wall, but Jim wanted to pace, maybe to punch something. He tugged harder at his own hair instead. “I didn’t expect this to happen, you know,” he finally admitted, a helpless creak to his tone. “When we first started…” he flicked his free hand between them, “well, whatever it is we’re doing, I thought it was just… casual. I didn’t expect to feel…”

And that’s where the words stopped.

“I didn’t expect to _feel_ ,” he repeated, like he was admitting to a grave failure.

Bones reached up to gently extricate Jim’s hand from the tangle he’d made of his own hair. He eased it down and threaded their fingers together. “Yeah, that happens sometimes, Jim.”

Jim sighed, and nodded. He squeezed the hand that held his so tight and comforting. “That last thing I said… well, that I shouted. I said… I said, _it’s not like I’m in lo_ –”

But Bones stopped him before he could get it out. “You don’t have to say the words, Jim. I’m not that cruel. Just… don’t fucking push me away.”

He should’ve protested being given the ‘out’; a better man would’ve, but Jim clutched at it like a drowning man at a life-preserver.

Still, he owed Bones something for that concession. “It’s not like I’ll never be able to –”

Bones cut him off again with a snort and a, “Stop while you’re ahead, Jimmy boy.” He pulled their joined hands to his mouth and kissed Jim’s knuckles. “So, you gonna let this have a chance?”

Jim took a deep, steadying breath. “Yeah, Bones. Yeah I’m going to give this a chance.”

“C’mon then,” Bones insisted, using his hold on Jim’s fingers to tug him across the room to the bed. “I’m getting’ lucky tonight one way or another.” He pushed Jim down to the bed, crawled up over him, and kissed him senseless.

While Bones finally came up for air – and to start yanking off clothing – Jim lay back and let a peculiar warmth subsume him, and as that feeling spread up through his chest and down through his toes, he decided that maybe having love to fall back on wouldn’t be such a tricky thing after all.


End file.
